| Bunkers and Centurions, Part I |
| Summary: | Bunny and Pickle meet Ryker Hawkins. |
| Date: | 29 May 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Bunkers and Centurions, Part II |
| Players: |
   |
| Somewhere in Leonis |
|---|
| Read first pose! |
| Post-Holocaust Day: #90 |
Almost, almost night time in Leonis. Near the downtown area, right where the tallest buildings can be found, there is a wide open space that is as big as a football stadium. The green grass is now dead, having turned to a dark brown color, the trees have no leaves left, they were all burned or scattered around. It really looks like the Land of the Dead, only that know, there's nobody walking around. Right in the middle, there's a circular building, all windows were blasted by the explosion, and what makes this building different, it's that it's only 3 floors high, so right next to the 40, 50 floor high buildings, it creates an interesting contrast. There are twelve flag poles right in front of this building, most of them have no flags, some of them are laying on the floor; but two of them still hold pieces of what once were two flags. By the looks of them, one flag belongs to Leonis and the other to Saggitaron. To the east of the building, several holes can be found, some of them were already covered with dirt, some are just there, empty, waiting…clearly, the dead have been buried there, by someone. Something else? Centurions, scattered around the place, all of them covered with bullet holes.
Why the city feels safer by night— who knows? It's really more logical to go about by day, as heat signatures are less likely to be picked up in the heat, and there's more light for seeing, to boot. But several weeks down here on this planet have not made for the most careful laying-out-of-plans, and so it's at dusk that Bunny and Pickle are finally climbing up out of their own little hideout away from the world, loaded up with gear probably a little more than they should be carrying in their exhaustion. The shipwrecks of Centurions don't ease Bunny's mind a lick, but he nods toward the graves, wordless, for Pickle, then, turning, he peers up at the flags and grunts a little, turning with bent back to approach the conspicious structure, mouth open a little, eyes squinted almost shut as he tries to look on through the windows, bootfalls crackling on the glass.
There is someone there, yes, and he is holding an Assault Rifle in his hands, quietly aiming to where Bunny and Pickle are. Ryker Hawkins remains in silence, concealed by the very same structure of that building. When Pickle moves away, his focus remains on Bunny, but just for a bit, he moves his gaze towards the female after that. Two against one, what are the odds…he has been in these types of situations before, but it is indeed, strange to see two people walking down there, at this hour. He also knows that the Centurions will soon be patrolling, not large groups, just small sets. What to do, what to do. "Identify yourself!" calls out the man from the building, deciding to take a risk. He knows it won't take long for the tosters to reach that location, and he is the last survivor of the group of twenty-something.
Evandreus is armed. He's got a shiny new sidearm fastened tightly at his side. But that fact seems to elude him when he creeps around the beam and near face-to-face (or, well, nearer than he'd like) with a big frak-off gun. And someone holding it. Instead, he simply unhooks the hand that isn't holding something essential from the strap it had been helping to support up from his shoulder, showing a red and blistered palm in a gesture of peacefulness. "Lieutenant, JG, Evan Doe, Battlestar Cerberus," he lets the guy know. "We're not here to— I mean— you can—" he looks from guy to gun and back again, "No need for that, sir. We're, uh, a little lost." Something like a feeble chuckle tries to buoy up those last few words. "Could we use your phone?"
"I'll tell you what, Lieutenant, JG, Evan Doe from Battlestar Cerberus. Call your partner, right now and then we can talk." He moves slightly forward, letting some of his features be seen. He has a beard alright, there are sunburns on his face that are easily noticeable. "I will stand down when your partner shows up here right next to you" The rifle, now more visible, it is indeed a High Power Assault Rifle, the safe is not on, and his finger is on the trigger." It has been about almost two months and a half since he saw people, alive at least, and he is being extra cautious. Adding to that, well, all that time alone in a nuked planet, can screw with someone's head.
Evandreus doesn't take his eyes off of the guy with the gun, but his chin tilts upward and to the side a little, neck arcing back just slightly, "Pickle? Up here, hon," he calls, casual as you please, then,evidently addressing the guy again, "Seriously, guy. We're not here to stir anything up. Call me Bunny. Everyone else does. What do folk call you?" he tries to steer the encouter further away from ammo to amiability.
When Pickle is called by Bunny, Ryker decides to lower his weapon. He examines Evan for a moment and then nods "Corporal Ryker Hawkins, Battlestar Valkyrie." Now he looks to his side, to check if Pickle is walking towards them, but right away, his attention goes back to Evan "Hawk" Yep, that how people call him, logical alias given his last name. "Come on, Centurions won't take long to get here." with that said, the man walks into the darkness, but footsteps can be heard as he follows a straight light. Then, a few feet ahead, a door in the ground opens, and he walks down a set of stairs, but waits for them before disappearing completely. Inside, they'll find themselves in a pretty state of the art anti bomb bunker, it has radiation meds, it has weapons, it has food…but the Radio has no batteries, go figure. "I'm afraid I'm not very tech savvy, and these brilliant guys didn't got backup batteries in here"
Evandreus returns the favor of the examination, though his seems more geared toward ascertaining the well-being of the man before him, brow wrinkled in a momentary lapse into concern before both brows pop upward at the invitation. "Oh, wow, thanks, Hawk," he grunts a little as he hefts some of the stuff he's lugging up further onto his back, "Wow, hey, nice digs," he comments on his way down, attention immediately heading for the wall closest to the eastern curve of the building as he lifts his hand to his nose to rub at it, dust all up in there irritating his airways as he scours the wall. "This'll be fine. Well-reinforced, I'll bet the air wire transmitters are intact," he leans down and sets a big block of half-charred machinery next to the wall, then a toolkit, and a medkit, then finally kneels himself down there, too, looking up and aside as Pickle gets down next to him and starts to open up a panel on the wall. "We're going to see if we can get in touch with any of our folk on the surface. They went missing a… crap, more than a week ago. If we feed this comms transmitter through Kythera's semiwired infrastructure, we might be able to get them on the line, here. We're still looking for a way out. Are you, uh—" he glances up while Pickle does the brunt of the wiring work, "Are you looking for a ride?"
Hawk closes the doors when the Cerberus duo is inside, he locks the doors with what seems to be, pretty heavy duty locks, bank safe style. "Well, if you can make it work, that's definitely a good thing." He walks inside and sits on a bed, that right now, it's covered with stuff like open boxes, anti-radiation meds, other weapons, some food…he spent a lot of time alone. "Yes, ride would be good" says the man, often looking at the securely locked door. "Centurions will start patrolling soon, I don't advise going out now. If you make contact, set a meeting for tomorrow or, the day after or whatever, but not right now." There are millions of questions that he has, he only knows about the fate of Leonis. The rest? That's a big question mark for him. One thing that it becomes more than obvious now, this place housed the people that is buried outside.
"Well, as soon as we find one, we'll be sure to save you a seat, dude. Thanks for taking us in," Evan tells the guy, beginning to pull apart one side of the comms box into a makeshift operating unit, jamming a finger down into a recessed button several dozen times in a row until a group of semi-opaque keys lights up and he starts to enter the encryption for his team's comms. He goes quiet, then, brow lowered, intent on the work, as if putting enough force into entering the codes would somehow compel the call to go through. As the unit gears up, a low rattle of deep-frequency static begins to chop through the air, and then— and THEN— the chopping noises grow more dense in frequency, more like a static— though with a distinctive tone behind it. Distinctive, that is, for anyone who's ever lived on Leonis.
That's the sound of an open phone line.
Hawk nods after hearing Evan's words "Thanks" is what he says and then, he goes to quiet mode, he is fine tuning his ear to listen to whatever is happening outside, which, surprisingly enough, doesn't seem to be much. However, his attention is stolen by the noises that the comms box start making. "That sounds promising…" says the man, now standing up to move closer to said box. He leans against a metal table that holds several pillows and blankets and waits there, and when the actual tone of a phone line is heard, he smiles and runs his fingers over his beard. "Good, good, that is good" Nodding several times, he shows the damage that being alone can do. As far as descriptions go, his face, his hands, they all show sunburns, his beard has seen better days and his hair is a little dirty…no showers in paradise city.
The phone rings once. Twice. Thrice. Is anyone going to answer? Fou- "Uh-h-h-h." A female voice, scratchy, wary. "H'lo?" There's the sound of voices in the background. Footsteps. Activity. All, of course, masked in a thick fog of choppy static, mostly indeterminate. But at the sound of a maybe-voice, Evan leans over the device and just about hollers into it "Cal!? Ell Tee Oberlin!? Are you there!? WHO IS THIS?"
The Corporal shifts his stance and crosses his arms over his chest, he takes a deep breath and waits patiently. When voices and activity can be heard, he leans in and listens quietly. For the time being, he is just letting Evan do what he's doing, and hopefully get a plan to get the hell of this rock.
Static, static, "This—" static crackle, "This is Ensign Apostolos. Who is this? Can you hear me?" Evan gives a breathless huff of an almost-laugh, then lifts his voice again, "Cubits!? It's Bunny! Speak up, we've got a lot of static! Where are you!?"
While Bunny speaks with the other person in the line, Hawk decides to stand up and walks towards the heavy doors. He presses his ear against them, trying to define if things outside are secure or not. He found in the past that Centurions like to wander around the cemetery he created. Apparently they don't touch anything but, who knows. Without saying anything, he walks downstairs again and starts gathering things on the bed, mostly ammo and meds, along with a bit of food.
A beat of stunned silence, then: "Bunny?! Where the frak ARE you?!" Away from the receiver: "Get me- no, the travel guide, quick!" Back to the conversation at hand, she says, even louder, "We're on Colonial Row. In- uh. Uh. We're all at my Embassy." "Colonial Row!" Evan shouts back, "I know where that is! What number is the Embassy!?" he continues to shout. "I found a nice fellow near the Plaza Pandora who let me use his telephone Pickle and I found a couple of viable ships in the grounddocks north of here! But they're going to need some work to get them in the air!!"
Hawk walks closer to the Cerberus duo now, more interested in the conversation at hand "How many of you are stuck here in Leonis?" asks the man with a curious tone of voice. Without waiting for the answer, he walks to a set of metal lockers and starts to empty them, throwing /everything/ on the bed. On the far left corner of the wall, combat backpacks are hanging there, waiting to be used. They are pretty large, would almost cover the entire back of a tall man. Hawk grabs three and puts them on the metal tables, and then starts to get one of them ready.
"Shit, shit! We've got everyone here, Bunny, all the deckies! We can do that. We can totally do that! It's uh. Uh- fourth in, it's fourth in. How far out are you? What's your ETA?" comes the voice melting out of the crackling static of the line, and, at the question from Hawk, Bunny's eyebrows lower. "I dunno. Cubits was already supposed to be back at the ship. I thought it was just the twelve of us, but there could be a good deal more, if the other team got trapped on the surface, as well." He lifts his voice, then, to be heard over the comms, "I don't know, Cubits! Hawk here says the patrols will be by, soon! We're not too far east of you, but we might have to hunker down here for a while to miss the traffic!!"
Hawk narrows his eyes and lets his fingers pull from his beard "Twelve or more…" states the man and then keeps working on the backpacks "If we have to do this tonight? We have to do it /right/ away, otherwise they'll be onto us." quickly says the man. When the three backpacks are ready with supplies, he gets his own on his back, takes his side arm, his assault rifle and adds a sniper scope to it. Night vision rocks ass.
"Okay. Copy that, Bunny! We'll keep our eyes out for you! You- uh. You be careful, okay? Boots isn't gonna stop pacing until you get here." During this piece, Evan's eyes have strayed to the fellow decking himself in all sorts of holy shit battle gear, and he finally clears his throat, "I think we've got 'careful' covered, Cubits!" he shouts into the thing. "Wait. Wait, Boots is there? He didn't make it to Hyperion? Is— crap, Cubits, I think we're going to make a break for it, here! Give Boots a hug for me, eh? Just in— GAH!" he cuts off as even the bunker tremors with the force of an air-to-ground strike not far from the building, making the lights flicker and the connection go dead. "Shit. Frak. Dammit," he grunts, peeking up from where he'd covered his head. "Let's break for it," he stands, gathering up his gear to a countertop, leaving the comm system plugged to the wall. It's done its job, and will just slow them down, at this point.
Hawk paces around while Evan does the talking, he presses his lips together and quickly flicks draws weird things in middle air with his finger. They probably make sense to him, but to others? Who knows. The reality is, he's reviewing a mental map of the grounds around the building. He ducks his head when the explosion is heard and he says "Oh Frak…they found us…" With that said, he runs towards the door, places his ear against it again and then says "Alright, we go, quiet mode for the moment." Now, he unlocks the door again, pushes it open and places one knee on the floor when he is on surface level. His night-scope is fully functional, and he searches through the darkness for a possible threat.
"Just leave it," Evan shakes his head slowly as he reiterates to Pickle while she tries to gather up the last of their poor downed Raptor. "If we need it again… this place seems pretty sturdy, we might be able to pop back in," he points out, opening up his toolcase and grabbing out a wrench, curved screwdriver, and a set of micropliers, getting them arranged within grasp before he straps his medkit to his back and takes up the rest of the toolcase over his shoulder. "There are a whole mess of parking garages down at the other end of the plaza. Sturdy concrete fraks, some of the only things standing in other parts of town. If we can find a car that hasn't been crushed, we should be able to outrun any Centurion troops. Think we can get there?" he wonders, coming up after Hawk, Pickle taking up the rear. He squints out into the dark. No Cylons in sight. No more ground strikes, either, for the moment.
"We should be able to, yes…normally they follow a very specific pattern. They reach that side but it's not their first stop, so we should be fine…" With that said, he stands up, sweeps the area with his night-scope again and then closes the door of the bunker. "Let's go." quietly says the man, and he starts moving to one of the sides of the building. He stops there and looks to each side, always trusting what his scope shows before letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. Hawk moves towards the parking lot, hoping that the rest of them are following him.
